<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Missionary's Daughter by EmmyRK</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769793">The Missionary's Daughter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyRK/pseuds/EmmyRK'>EmmyRK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse, Coming of Age, Drug Abuse, F/M, Finding Love, Multi, Secrets, TRR AU, missionary's daughter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyRK/pseuds/EmmyRK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Drake Walker &amp; Main Character (The Royal Romance), Drake Walker/Original Character(s), Liam Rys &amp; Main Character (The Royal Romance)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Missionary's Daughter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dark shadows shift across the wooden bedroom floor as the hallway's ornate grandfather clock chimes four.  He slouches on the side of his bed. He cradles his head in his calloused hands, finger-combing his long, greasy chestnut locks. His vacant, somber eyes are sore from drowning in tears.</p><p>Reaching for his belt, he taps his phone to life. <em>Wow, has it really been two weeks?</em> She'll return home today, but not to him. Her soft, supple skin will be perfectly sun-kissed, but not for his admiration. Her lustrous waves will boast of the decadent salty-beach air, but not for him to touch. Her radiant beauty will brilliantly glow from her sleepless nights of euphoria and daily feasts of ecstasy. She will be carried by love and tradition across the threshold of her new home only to be romanced by velvety tangles of marriage sheets, and nestled safely with another man.</p><p>Not with Drake Walker.</p><p>It's been two weeks since she reverently vowed herself to her beloved. A breathtaking spectacle of grace and purity, she publicly declared her loyalty and steadfast love to <em>him</em>, to the one whom her soul loves, to the one whom her soul craves. For better or for worse.</p><p>But, Liam is the perfect match for her: perfectly mannered, perfectly groomed, perfectly in love with her. He is also the perfect and loyal best friend.<em> Drake's</em> best friend. When she agreed to court Liam, the king of Cordonia dutifully and humbly came to his friend, knowing full-well things were complicated between her and Drake.</p><p>"There will never be someone like <em>her</em>," he sighed, disguising his nervously flushed skin by rubbing the back of his neck. "She deserves someone like you, Li--<em>better</em> than you, actually. If that even exists." Completely unaware of the sting of his words, Drake swiftly clapped a dumbfounded Liam on the back with his blessing, hoping--no, <em>certain</em> that nothing would blossom between them. </p><p>Afterall, she was<em> nobody</em>. She wasn't royalty; she wasn’t even from Cordonia. She didn't know the extensive history of the country, the major cities and duchies, let alone their major historical landmarks and monuments.  She didn't know how to dress or how to eat or how to breathe like a Cordonian, much less, like the elite. The press would have a field day with her while being an easy target to cruelty from the other nobles. Together as a couple, she would simply embarrass herself, and her demise would be embarrassing the Crown. She was <em>nothing</em>.</p><p>At least he had hoped she would be <em>nothing</em> to Liam. </p><p>To Drake, she was <em>everything</em>.</p><p>But, it was no surprise to Drake; with her natural charisma, selfless nature and beaming joy, the people fell in love with her. She flourished at court as she eagerly learned propriety and etiquette. She walked like them, talked like them, and even looked like them; however, she never lost sight of who she was, and that endearing charm alone is what won the royal family's approval. A short time later, she happily accepted the king's proposal to become his queen.</p><p>And now here Drake sits: lost and alone in the wrecked shards of his own shattered heart. Although he created his own misery this time, he wonders to himself: would he ever be good enough? Would he ever be worthy enough for someone like her? Would he ever experience someone, with a fierce love and overwhelming passion, like her again?</p><p>Pulling in a sharp inhale, he painfully rubs his eyes, begging for clarity as he grabs his bedside flask. He stumbles carelessly into the bathroom, eliciting the hum of the halogen lamps as he switches on the lights. The shower subtly leaks steady drops of comfort, his only companion in the early morning hours.</p><p>Adjusting the water flow in the sink, he leans against the cool ceramic tiles of the bathroom vanity, staring at his haggard appearance in the mirror. He sniffles a couple of times, clearing his throat as he soaks in the visage of his red, irritated eyes and his overgrown, wiry beard. </p><p>Out of habit, he peers down at the scar tissue on his shoulder from an old bullet wound, a bullet he gladly took for <em>her</em>. Like every morning, a stiff soreness erects in his shoulder from the injury. He gently massages the muscles and ligaments around the crooked skin deformation, gently moving his arm in its natural range of motion.</p><p>He opens the built-in recessed cupboard behind the mirror. Amongst the littered shelves of bandages, toothpaste, cologne and condoms, an orange bottle with sticker residue from an old label calls to him. He swipes it absentmindedly, closing the medicine cabinet. </p><p>He stares at the plastic container. He glides his gnarled fingernail under the paper remnants as the contents inside sing of a sweet escape in his grasp.  His breathing labors as his eyes dart to meet his unrecognizable reflection. Searing tears form, blurring his sight even further as his hands tremble in fear. <em>And anticipation</em>.</p><p>He pours out a few tablets into his mouth, chasing it with the few drops left in his flask. He splashes his face with warm water, running his wet fingers through the edges of his beard and the tips of his hair. Now, he waits.</p><p>Echoes of her voice serenade his crippling wounds with harmonies of affection. The phantom impression of her fingertips comfort his tattered edges, splinting him with hope. The sudden waft of her drips like rich honey, suffocating his senses slowly and sweetly. Closing his eyes, he sees perfection: what he wouldn’t give to drown in her ocean blue eyes just one more time; to lose himself in the forest of her soft curls; to tumble the expanse of the winding hills of her smooth curves; to ravenously devour the sweet orchard of her innocence. <em>Just one more time.</em></p><p>Cupping his hands with water again, he looks back at what’s left of himself. The lights crescendo into blinding strobes as his vision doubles. His once-handsome brown eyes succumb to the blackness of his pupils.  Losing his balance, he stumbles into the shower, tearing the curtain and pole from the wall. The floor shakes beneath his broken body as all sound strums into a single annoying ring. He opens his mouth to scream, but not a peep is made. The all-too-familiar-high would take over in a matter of minutes.</p><p>Reaching for his shoulder again, he notices the subtle ache is finally fading.  He rests his head back on the side of the bathtub as he closes his eyes. Sweat casually trickles across his brow as the ebb and flow of the running water lulls his listless mind into stillness. </p><p>But the memories don’t stop.      </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>"That thing still killing you?" </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake abruptly stops kneading his shoulder; letting out a subtle sigh of irritation, he turns his attention to his unwelcomed company: Liam's crude, playboy brother Leo. The commoner originally retreated to the balcony to escape the obnoxious clatter of the engagement party, to be alone in his own thoughts. But, where there is a Leo, there is no silence.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake gave a subtle nod. “Hey, man,” he winces as he rotates his shoulder. “Hurts like a bitch.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo lowers his voice. “I know a guy, y’know?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake raises an eyebrow. “For?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Your pain. I know a guy down in the wards. He’s got the sickest shit--”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Are you seriously trying to sell me --”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Shh!” Leo throws his hands up, while frantically looking around them. “Dude, first rule about fight club.”  He puts his finger to his mouth and glares at Drake. “So, y’interested? I can get you a hook-up--” He stands at attention like a soldier. “The royal hook-up--″</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Yeah, um, about that--” Drake rubs the back of his neck as he nervously chuckles, pretending he wasn’t just offered street drugs by the soon-to-be King’s brother. “I’ve got my own, y’know, um, shit.” Drake opens his navy blue blazer, patting a hidden compartment.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo wiggles his eyebrows “Vicodin?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Oxy.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo whistles through his teeth. “Well, suit yourself, Drakey. But if you ever find yourself wanting to forget who you are, forget life for a little while--” he finger guns him, clicking his tongue against his cheek.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake groans under his breath, returning to his whiskey neat.</p>
</blockquote><p>The air thickly fogs as the heated water continues to pour down the drain. Drake intently rubs his eyes, trying to focus on his tools around the bathroom. His belt hangs loosely around his neck. Spotting his personal hand towel, he leans over to snatch it, careful not to disturb the stashed contents. Holding his breath, he stares at the task at hand as another wave crashes over his distraught mind.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Quite the party inside, huh?” Leo interrupts Drake’s thoughts with his larger-than-life banter. He fixes a cigarette between his teeth as he pats down his pockets: first his jacket, then his pants.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Clearing his throat, Drake tosses him a lighter from his slacks before resting his elbows against the balustrade.  </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo ignites his cigarette and saddles up against a downcast Drake. Playfully nudging his side, Leo lets out a growl. “Ah, chin up, my good friend. Nothing, but royal pussy in there tonight, but we can still get your dick wet.” He chuckles before turning up his nose. “They could at least teach these girls how to give good head in finishing school.” He groans jokingly as he takes a pull of his smoke. </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Yeah,” Drake quietly mutters, emotionless and oblivious to the conversation at hand.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo studies Drake, trying to read his expression as he deeply inhales one last warm puff. Smothering the butt with his patent-leather Oxford, he reaches across the quiet friend intently, slowly grabbing his glass of warm amber liquor. Drake’s dark eyes track him closely as Leo carelessly pretends to sip from it.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake finally grabs his elbow. “The fuck are you doing, dude?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“The fuck is wrong with you?” Leo puts the glass down, shaking Drake’s grip from his arm. “Your best friend just got engaged to the woman of his dreams, and you are out here, all alone, sulking like someone pissed in your Wheaties.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Drake glares at Leo before letting out a long sigh. <em>“Fuck!”</em> he rakes his fingers back and forth through his hair in frustration. Was he being <em>that</em> obvious?</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Now,” Leo continues, “are you going to tell me what’s got your panties in a wad?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Leo, just--” Drake grips his hands into a fist before relaxing them again. “Just leave me alone.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo slowly nods his head, pressing his lips together. “Fine.” He turns to leave, calling out over his shoulder, “I’ll get Liam.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“You <em>wouldn’t,</em>” Drake snarls, his fist balling up again. </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo lifts his hands in surrender, snickering. <em>“Whoa, okay</em>. So <em>something</em> is bothering you about this party,” he raises an eyebrow, “but we <em>can’t </em>tell Liam?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><em>“Leave it alone, Leo,”</em> he warns as his tone becomes gruffer. </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo bores his crystal blue eyes into Drake before growing wide. </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>“Holy Shit!”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>“Stop it.”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo covers his smirking, gaping mouth. <em>“Holy shit, Walker!”</em></p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><em>“Knock it off, Leo!”</em> Drake threatens, stepping forward with a clenched jaw.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><em>“You?</em> And--<em>and Riley? Still?”</em></p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><em>“Still?”</em> Drake’s face flickers to stunned. “What do you mean <em>‘still’</em>?”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Oh, c’mon, Drakey,” Leo chuckles in disbelief. “Anyone with two eyeballs--” he snickers again,”--more like anyone with two ears knows you and Liam’s prized American whore fucked.” Leo mimics a spanking motion in the air as his voice becomes breathy and whiney. “And fucked. And fucked--”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><em>“Shut the fuck up, Leo!”</em> Drake growls at Leo, grabbing him by the collar. His other arm hangs low, tensed and ready to strike.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>“Go ahead. <em>Hit me.</em> I’m <em>not</em> the one who betrayed my best friend--” </p>
</blockquote><p>Drake’s breathing decelerates into a heavy rumble as Leo’s words reverberate loudly in his stoned brain.  He traces the edges of the old hunter-green towel folded in his lap as his demons continue to whisper in his ears.</p><p>He did this; he did all of this. He did it to himself; he did it to his family, his friends, to his own future. He’s the one that damaged his relationships; he destroyed the people dearest to him. </p><p>And in the midst of his whirlwind selfishness, he almost lost the two most important people in his life. He stole and carefully lied to his very best friend; he hid in the shadows with Liam’s future bride--his future queen, getting lost in her depths and pleasurable moans.</p><p>And with her, he lost a love that most will never experience in a lifetime, a love that he is now forced to watch unfold with his best friend.</p><p>And he can barely live with himself because of it.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em>“Drake?”</em> Her voice carries over the loud laughter and clinking of dishes from the engagement party. <em>“Drake?”</em></p>
  <p>Drake cranes his neck. <em>“Brooks?”</em></p>
  <p>“Hey, you,” she picks up her dress as she quickens her step onto the secluded balcony. She effortlessly dashes into Drake’s strong embrace.</p>
  <p><em>“God,”</em> she sniffles, “I’ve missed you,” she quietly whispers, her voice shaking.</p>
  <p>Those sweet words warm his heart as he cups her cheek. Their lips meet in a hungry kiss, quickly returning into a tight hold as they nuzzle into each other.</p>
  <p>“I’ve missed you, too, Brooks--”</p>
  <p><em>“Drake,”</em> she interrupts. Her body has joined her voice in shaking as warm tears cascade down her porcelain cheeks. “We<em> need </em>to talk.”</p>
</blockquote><p>Drake unfolds his hand towel, revealing a charred metal spoon, a lighter, and a blunted, worn syringe.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>He pushes his lips back to hers as his hands search up and down her exposed back.</p>
  <p>“No talking tonight,” he pleads. “I know everything is about to change, but let me have you. Just for one more night--”</p>
  <p>She turns her head, placing her hands on his chest to create distance.</p>
  <p><em>“Stop.</em> We can’t do this right here--”</p>
  <p>He caresses her rounded-ass emphatically. “That never stopped us before,” he huskily chuckles as he suckles gently on her ear.</p>
  <p>She pulls his arms off of her body as she stares out across darkened countryside of Cordonia. He grabs her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, coaxing her to face him again.</p>
  <p>“Listen, we will figure this out.” He squeezes her hand. “And--and Liam? He’s just going to have to understand that--”</p>
  <p>“Drake, I’m<em> late</em>.”</p>
</blockquote><p>Tucked neatly in his belt, he pulls out two clear packets of perfectly measured grams of white granules. With quaking fingers and his eyes zooming into and out of focus, he carelessly dumps them into his utensil.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em>“L--Late? </em>As in--” Drakes combs his fingers anxiously through his hair. “<em>A baby?”</em></p>
  <p>She nods her head as the floodgate of tears opens, pouring sobs down her face. Drake rubs his hand across his mouth, grasping at words, any words to say to the woman he loves so dearly.</p>
  <p>“So, you and--and Liam, then? Y’all have been--”</p>
  <p>“No. We’ve never--” She sighs, placing her petite hand on Drake’s cheek. “I would never do that to you. <em>Not willingly.</em>”</p>
  <p>He grabs her hand, kissing it gingerly. “Wow,” he offers a half smile as eyebrows knit with concern. “We’re--we’re having <em>a baby?</em>” His eyes glisten from tears of terror. And excitement. The secret affair was soon to be exposed for all of Cordonia to know, for his best friend to know. But truth be told, Drake didn’t care as long as he finally got his girl.</p>
  <p>She clears her throat. “That’s why we <em>need </em>to talk--”</p>
</blockquote><p>Drake sparks a single flame as the white powder bubbles to a fine liquid. Tenderly with his syringe, he sucks up every tiny morsel of fluid, the needle licking the spoon clean. He tightens his belt around his arm just above his elbow to expose a mapwork of vessels, previous pinholes and bruises. Making a fist, he exposes three perfect veins, tempting him with an easy stick, an easy dive into ecstasy.  </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“<em>I’m</em> having a baby, Drake. <em>With Liam.</em> <em> With my future husband.</em>”</p>
  <p>The words resound like clanging cymbals in his head. Drake scoffs, shaking his head as if to rid him of this bad dream. “What are you saying, <em>Riley?</em>”</p>
  <p>She covers her mouth to stifle her sobs. “Drake,” she bites her lip. “I’m so,<em> so</em> sorry--”</p>
  <p><em>“Sorry?”</em> he sniffles back tears, “you’re<em> sorry? For fuck’s sake, Riley!</em> What about <em>us?”</em></p>
  <p>
    <em>“Drake--”</em>
  </p>
  <p>“What about everything <em>we’ve</em> been fighting for? For--for the past several months? Everything <em>we’ve</em> been through: did<em> you</em> think about that?”</p>
  <p>
    <em>“Drake, please--”</em>
  </p>
  <p>“What about<em> me?</em> You told me--” his voices hitches around a lump in his throat. “You told me you <em>loved</em> me.”</p>
  <p><em>“I do!”</em> she grabs his hand, nuzzling her nose against his rough skin. <em>“I’m sorry, Drake, I really am.”</em>  She slithers her hands around his waist, pressing her head firmly into his chest. “Try to understand--”</p>
  <p><em>“I don’t.”</em> He pushes her arms away from him as he turns back towards the engagement party.</p>
  <p><em>“Drake!”</em> She calls out, stopping him in his tracks. “Please don’t tell<em> him</em>.”</p>
</blockquote><p>He pierces his skin with the dull needle as he looks up towards the ceiling one last time. His eyes roll back into his head as streams erode down his face.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Leo,” Drakes claps him on the back before pressing his ear to his mouth. “So, you know a guy.”</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>Leo backs up, noticing the chill in Drake’s eyes. “Yeah,’ He chuckles, offering a Cheshire grin. “I know a guy.”</p>
</blockquote><p><em>“All I ever wanted was you,”</em> he whispers as he pushes the plunger, injecting himself with the powerful poison. Laying his body back into the tub, he allows his body to succumb to the darkness, to the numbness, to the nothingness of his own life.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>